And Now For Something Completely Different... (homage to MONTY PYTHON there...)

Recently, I wrote a piece using automatic writing/stream of consciousness, i.e., MEDITATION. I'm part of a writing group, and we had an assignment to write a prose piece which included 36 words, pulled from a hat. I did this piece in ONE SITTING - definitely STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS. I like this piece, so I decided to put it here, after meditating for 14 minutes - hence my reference to "completely different". Tomorrow I'll get back to my normal routine! :)

Theater of the Absurd Treatise #1

Her costume’s diabolical, so much so that he decided to investigate in order to
isolate the curse from whence it
came. Would he be victorious, he wonder,
as he knocked on the door of WHATNOT, intersection of Canal and Bourbon Street.

“Hello,” he said as the door
opened. “Forgive the intrusion, but I’m a Cormorant diving for fish in the deep blue sea.”

“That custom I’m unaware of,” the proprietor said and then smiled. “Come.
My garden in the back is in chaos
and I need to irrigate. Entertain me with your lies. The curd of my disbelief has not
coagulated, yet.”

Nodding, he
followed this buffalo down the
narrow hall, admiring her elegant
gray hair, magnificent mane …

The Coreopsis crowded the back porch, a
broken down slab, vermicular golden
glue “healing” the cracks in the cement.

The shopkeeper
smiled when she saw him glancing down at her handiwork.

“I transmogrified it,” she simply said,
gesturing towards the yellow flowers. “Coreopsis, which these are, means to be always cheerful. I figured they could use the accompaniment.”

He, the
customer, glanced at the bees nosing the flowers and at the hovering white
butterflies. Looking back at the woman
threw him into a swivet. He also hyperventilated. Was her hair now blonde?

For a moment he
was enamored. Staggering
back, he pulled himself up by the bootstraps; determine to tell the proprietor – this changing woman – about his
problem. So he began.

The woman was
on her knees pulling up vines. Finally
she looked up.

“Are you a squirrel,” she demanded, “screaming in
the trees about some squirt of a
girl, a cloud in the sky who has no place in your world?”

Her speech was mesmerizing, leaving him in a state of confusion which irritate…

Wanting to instigate, cross words, swords, he
whirled around instead and went down the hall hearing her laughing, in scorn, which left him so mad he went
home and created an insurrection.